September 22, 2009

Scent Notes for the Downtrodden

It seems like every publication out there has a perfume review column now—The NY Times, The Topeka Booger, numberless zines—that it's about time WFMU had one. And if it already does, it could stand another. So I, Ed Shepp, senior perfumer for the Swedish American Futurimagineering Institut, am stepping up to provide one. And probably just ONE, since I'm very busy with my bringing lazy back and all you know. Anyway, let's get started, and as a once-in-a-lifetime gesture of kindness, I'll be uncharacteristically brief.

Let's review some stanky stuff.

Instinct deodorant stick by Axe: By now everyone knows that Axe Dark Temptation smells amazing. If you're not aware, you're wrong—try the shower gel, which evokes A*Men without the laundry detergent. In the case of Instinct, the deodorant stick far exceeds the body spray (the latter of which smells generically musty to me). Unfortunately, for me it doesn't smell of "rare leathers," as advertised. I wish it did—I wish it smelled like what they soak the Coach catalog in, which is similar to the purse room at Loehmans, sans that old-cheap-person accord. Instinct deodorant stick smells sort of like wood, or, rather, like aromachemicals that suggest wood, which often smell better than the extracts you find at health food stores (I'm looking at you, cedarwood atlas, with your interesting opening but ultimately hamsterrestrial character). I don't know what chemicals comprise Instinct's fragrance, but to prove that I know the names of some woody aromachemicals, I'm going to toss a few out like confetti: Iso E Super, Timberol, Javanol, Cedramber. There, go impress your friends (or not) with your knowledge of perfumerage.

Dial for Men 3D Soap: With a tagline like "Maintenance for your Mansuit," this soap demands to be tried. (The whole Dial for Men campaign is pretty interesting. [http://www.dialformen.com/d4m/dfm.html] They have another product in the line called Dial Magnetic, which they bill as "attraction enhancing body wash." That's some slogan, but I'm curious what one attracts with it—Bugs? Mold? Metal? People who believe in things like 'attraction enhancing body wash?') So that's what I did. After first smelling the bodywash, which was like a blast of cedar-on-steroids, I chose the subtler bar soap, which had a clear and predictable citrus character over the woods. My roommate with the reptile sense of smell remarked that it smelled "very manly," and I took that to mean she didn't like it. The 3D aspect of it is thus: 1) it cleans your skin, 2) it destroys odor (I thought the first two were the same) and 3) it defends against odor creeping up on you. The defense part is where it gets interesting: Obviously the soap has an antibacterial agent, triclocarban. According to Wikipedia, this chemical is thought to be an endocrine disruptor, but not in the usual make-everything-female way—supposedly this chemical enhances testosterone, at least in rats. So maybe there's more reason for marketing this as "men's soap" than just the smell! Final verdict after testing: it's an inoffensive soap in the shower, its scent doesn't linger (even though the soap leaves a filmy finish), and at the end of the day I didn't stink. But then, I'm not homeless, so of course I didn't stink. So if you want to 1) not stink, 2) do your part to contribute to germ resistance and 3) make a man out of your pet rat, go with the 3D.

FDS Sheer Tropics spray: In the spirit of gender equity, I crossed to the adjacent aisle and picked up a can of FDS, which I'd never actually seen before. FDS, if you didn't know, stands for "feminine deodorant spray." I presume it's intended to be applied to the coochal area. I don't want to think about that. I'm going to "forget" that. After considering the scent options, I chose Sheer Tropics, figuring it would be a pineapple-and-flower blend, like a lot of scents marketed as "tropical". This one smells like a faint hint of mango swirled into that powder inside latex gloves. It's got cornstarch in it, presumably to absorb something I've chosen to forget and keep you dry. Naturally I tested it on my feet and crotchal area. At the end of the day I didn't think I smelled any more tropical than usual, but I suppose it's possible. Unlike personal care conglomerates, I don't have people to sniff my crotch and take notes, so the spray could have made a difference which I didn't detect. So the bad news is that FDS is no Soft N Dri—it won't keep you smelling like a bouquet of white flowers after a 12-hour shift at McDonalds. The good news, I suppose, is that it won't make you smell like a latex glove either.

Snuggle Crème Sweet Almond Essence dryer sheets: The packaging on this product leads you to believe that it's going to smell like almond cream. Or maybe, for you scent nuts, "coumarinic" [http://www.leffingwell.com/Coumarin%20-%20the%20real%20story%20update2.pdf] —sweet-nutty-vanillic-herbal like hay or autumn sunlight. Of course, you expect that typical fabric softener smell as well, but you hope the almond will glimmer through. It doesn't. This smells like any other fabric softener, if maybe less strident. Admittedly, when I have my nosed buried in the box (!) I feel like I get an almond note, but I'm convinced that's an illusion created by the color and imagery from the box. It's a shame, too, because almondy-coumarinic dryer sheets would be fantastisk for two reasons: one, they would just smell good and harmonize well with other personal scents. And two, they would be particularly useful for putting in your shoes. My thinking here is that almond-cream, unlike more typical fabric softener scents, would blend strategically well with "cheesy feet" smell. Mix "mountain fresh" with that and you get "stinky laundry"; mix almond-cream and you get crème anglaise. Or at least a highfalutin French-type cheese. Alas, the world will have to wait for dryer sheets that transform your feet into custardy pastries. Once again I realize that I was born too soon.

Lastly, mention should be made of Febreze NOTICEables: Moroccan Bazaar: Ginger & Nutmeg. I'm referring here to the plug-in formulation with two chambers containing different fragrances that alternate in an attempt to cheat nose fatigue. Don't plug this one in, however; more on that inna minnut. Let's talk about the aromas of the individual chambers. First, the nutmeg: nothing to scent blog about. It's like Bath and Body Works' Creamy Nutmeg with 2% milk instead of heavy cream. The ginger chamber is where the magic happens. Usually "ginger" in air freshenerese means "akin to gingerbread." When it doesn't, it refers to the sharp, almost lemony smell of ginger root. In this product ginger attempts an entirely new definition. The scent, whatever it's intended (or not) to mimic in nature, smells exceptionally good, though not like any ginger I know. There's something about it that I can only describe as cherry Slurpee. Not cherry, but cherry Slurpee. Kind of like how some floral scents have a component that smells like Smarteez candy. Surely there's more to the fragrance, but I find the Slurpee note so pleasant that I focus only on it. You may be wondering how to use it to get the ginger scent alone, especially without plugging it in. Simple: open the top for the ginger chamber (it's obvious which one it is when you smell it), turn it upside down and allow a few drops of the oil to fall on a tissue or piece of cloth. Do not use a cherished relative—that could be dangerous. Place the tissue in the middle of the room. The oil is powerful and persistent; its smell will fill the room and linger. Now, this may seem like a janky way to use air freshener, but remember, I'm from Florida. Moreover, when your bathtub lies just a thin door away from a litter box, you need to think creatively with your odor management.

Well that's this installment of Scent Notes for the Downtrodden. I hope you've enjoyed it; if you haven't, then you can go sit on a durian.

I also am allergic to nearly all soaps in the supermarket and forget about antiperspirant. I'm even allergic to the crystal stuff at the health food store. Eucalyptus Dr. Bronner's seems to work well as shampoo and on the rest of me, but I've noticed that it attracts bees. Maybe i should pack some febreeze for back up.

You know the real point of the men's scent thing is to avoid having to shower after your workout and instead envelop your entire environment with a tear-inducingly heavy cloud of musty chemical fumes guaranteed to bury your natural putrescence. At least, this is what the guy who's desk is next to mine seems to think, and he's really smelling like Axe today. I've got a fan blowing it in the opposite direction, but a hepafilter may be in order.

a) Axe 'limited edition' scents always have such an interesting scent to them. I shall have to try out 'dark temptation' sometime (I wonder if a 'light temptation' kind of scent would work - white chocolate? some sort of reverse Yankee-Candle Moonlight Breeze sort of scent? clean linen mixed with ginger, etc).

b) I love the phrase 'bazzlegawazzle'. It's like the name of the magician's assistant ("Doctor Phonetic and his lovely assistant, bazzlegawazzle!") on a fictional UK children's show about learning prepositions and local civic pride. Additional sentences here.

i recall reading a very true news story about a young teen boy in the UK who DIED as a direct result of his obsessive applications of Axe spray scent....he was in a coma and was barely saved and then warned against EVEr using it so heavily again , which of course compelled the kid to hide in a closed car and use it till he died.
stanky moron....he def has some like-minded idiot teen boy friends in the USA...

all them things are major chemikeels!!!! all synthetic scent is bad bad bad for ya in the short and long run...essential oils only , tho those are strong enough to melt plastic if you dont dilute them...

Most excellent and informative scent review Ive ever read, Ed. Though I shant go anywhere within smelling distance of any of these heinous products. I do appreciate the vicarious experience of them through you. More please.